Dead Drop
by MorokBear-Cleaver
Summary: An epic tale which tells the story of a brave bounty hunter, Jarro, and his quest from an unknown client to deliver several dead drops to his men.
1. Chapter 1

It was going to take while. A _long _while. Frankly, Jarro couldn't begin to comprehend how long it was going to take. He knew when he got into this business that he would have to travel a lot. But walking from Solitude to Riften was simply stupid. But alas, he had to do it if he wanted his coin.

See, Jarro was a bounty hunter, and at that precise moment he had been given a mission by a unknown client to find six dead drops, take the money inside and deliver it to one of his men in Windhelm. Jarro had no idea what this client was like, but judging by the importance and formality of it all, he assumed it was a high-ranking nobleman. But it wasn't his place to ask. He just did what he was asked.

He wasn't the brightest man in Skyrim, but he was more intelligent than most. He had long, black hair, and often walked around in Steel Plate Armour with a black, fur cloak around it. His choice of weaponry was two scimitars, as well as a rare crossbow he looted from a dead troll. He had no idea how the crossbow even got in the troll to begin with. So Jarro just assumed he swallowed it by accident, and so when he punched the beast in the stomach, it triggered the bolt inside and ruptured the poor creature's organs. It would have been a funny sight if it's blood and guts hadn't flew onto Jarros' armour.

But anyway, Jarro had already taken five dead drops, but he was unsure where the last one was. The other five had a map that directed him, but the last had none at all, it just said 'Delvin'. Jarro instantly remembered a tale he once heard of a thief in the tunnels below Riften, named Delvin Mallory. So, off he went from his last pick-up in Solitude. All the way to Riften. He had, however, made good time. In just one day alone he reached Ivarstead, and now he was in the birch tree forest that surrounded the Rift like moths surrounded a torch.

Then, in the midst of it all, a giant frostbite spider appeared out of the blue, and started towards the Bounty hunter. Jarro calmly pulled out his scimitars, without any fear in his eyes, and walked towards the disgusting creature. They stared at eachother for half a minute or so, before they charged. The spider tried hitting him with one of his claw-like legs, but Jarro quickly dodged it, going in for an attack. The spider ducked it, grabbing on the scimitars, then tossing it aside. Jarro only sighed as he swiped at the creature again. The spider again dodged out the way, but made a mistake. Jarro was only working out a complex feint, and before the spider knew one of his legs was in a tree. It spat out in disgust, and one of the huge globs of poison hit Jarro in the face. Luckily he was wearing a helmet, but he was blinded nonetheless. He was dancing about, swiping aimlessly, like a Khajiit on skooma. The spider, without hesitation, jumped upon the man and started trying to hack away his armour plates. Jarro brought up his scimitar in defence, but it was knocked aside like the last by the spider. He was now defenceless, the spider had already broke off one plate of steel and was making short work of another. It all looked like the end for our bounty hunter, until he remembered his crossbow. He grabbed it from under his back and quickly reloaded it. The spider had taken off most of the front plates, so Jarro only had one chance to prolong his life. He let out a long breath, and just before the spider stabbed him and ripped out his organs, Jarro pulled the trigger. Blue blood erupted from the spider's head, as the steel bolt shot clean through its brain. It's body slumped back, then fell onto Jarro. The hunter quickly rolled it away, before standing up and looking down at his armor.

"This was new." he scowled at the dead creature.

Almost to punish the dead creature for breaking his armour, Jarro took the cut-off leg of the creature down from the tree, glued it onto a branch, creating a spear. He looked down the weapon, as to spot any flaws. Once he made sure there were none, he plunged it several times into the spider's neck, slowly decapitating it. He then picked up the head, stabbed it through the spear and stuck the weapon in the ground, as a warning to any other monsters wanting to hurt the man.

After Jarro had carefully stuck the plates on as best he could, he carried on, down a barely-noticeable path through the long, orange grass. He had picked up his scimitars, and now his fingers barely moved from their handle, ready to bring them out at the first sign of danger. It wasn't long before he reached a tiny village made up of wooden huts and small farms. Jarro noticed the entrance to a mine at the southern end. He decided this was a good place to rest, as it was nearly night, and see about getting his armour fixed. So he entered the small town.

It wasn't any surprise to Jarro that the townspeople eyed him with suspicion, and nearly outright disgust. For a start, he was an Imperial, and the Rift was Stromcloak Controlled. Jarro didn't really care much for politics or the Civil War, but he much preferred his own people to that of the barbaric Nords. And also, it wasn't hard to work out he was a bounty hunter or mercenary of some kind. As such, wherever he went, whatever he did, he always had a heavy set of eyes upon his back.

He decided to get a drink at the Inn, and rest for the night. He walked into the small, fairly-shabby building, and sat at the uneven bar. Two Nords sat either side, eyeing him like he'd killed their sons.

"What's your business here, filthy Imperial?" one of them asked, spitting at the hunter.

Jarro simply stared at him, "that's my private information."

"Maybe. But right now you're in Redriver's Run, and so now, you're business is our business. I just don't want to have you drag some Imperial raiding party down here. I mean, after all, what would an Imperial be doing this far south of Solitude?" the man explained, openly scowling.

Jarro ignored the question, "Redriver's Run, you say? I think 'The Skeeverhole' is a much more... suiting name. Don't you think?"

The Nords stared at him angrily, then lashed out with daggers. All Jarro did was duck, and so the two Nords impaled eachother with the blades, blood already catching in their throats.

"Name's Jarro, by the way."

That midnight, Jarro paid for a room and went to sleep straight away, still in his armour. Tomorrow he would fix his armour, and try to buy a horse. But even with one, it was still a long ride to Riften, so the bounty hunter made sure to get a good night's sleep.

When Jarro awoke he had the feeling he had been hit in the back of the head with a hammer. He also noticed he could see nothing but blackness. He moaned, and noted the floor he was on was stone, not wood.

"I think the filthy pig has woken up!" a harsh, Nord voice shouted, chuckling. Jarro deduced he wasn't the only one.

"Finally. I was beginning to think he was dead!" another laughed.

"Yeah! What a shame that would be, eh?" yet another voice mocked.

Suddenly the room was full of laughter.

Then, after a minute or so, silence followed and the bag was lifted from Jarro's head. The light blinded him, and it took a few minutes before he could see where he was. Jarro was in a natural cavern of some kind. No artificial light was here, Jarro noted. The only light was from several small holes in the rock above, where the harshness of the sun only barely reached. Various wooden ramparts were built against the cave walls, and Nords were busy at work hitting the walls with pickaxes. Jarro assumed this must have been the town mine.

"You know why you're here, wretched Imperial?!", a Nord grabbed him from behind.

"I'm guessing I annoyed you." Jarro said.

"Annoyed me?!" the Nord walked around, now in frotn of the bounty hunter. The Nord was dressed in fur armour, made of hides and pelts that had clearly not been washed fully, and neither had he. The Nord had several tattoos in his face. He was a traditional Nord. The worst. "You killed both my sons yesterday!"

"Your sons?" it took Jarro a minute to work out what the Nord was talking about. "Oh. Oooooooh. The ones in the inn yesterday? No, I think you're mistaken. I merely made a suggestion for a better city name and they both tried to kill me. I ducked and they both stabbed eachother."

"You expect me to believe that?!" The Nord shouted.

"Well I don't expect you to, you're a Nord after all. But if you had even a scrap of intelligence, you'd know I was right." Jarro said.

The Nord then ran forward and grabbed the bounty hunter's head, yanking it from side-to-side. "You know who I am, hmm? I am Holfgir Iron-Fist. I have killed over a dozen of your vile kind! And I'm always trying to add more!" The Nord then brought out a dagger, and tried to stab Jarro with it.

Unfortunately for the Nord, however, Jarro swiped out of the way in time. Then, when Holfgir tried again, Jarro avoided it, and ten bit the man's hand. The Nord dropped the dagger, and before he knew it, Jarro had already cut his bonds.

He stood up and backed away, to the far wall. "Tell me," he began, "why do you have no torches? No lamps in here? I mean, it's not very bright down here."

When no one answered, he asked again.

Finally, a young voice from the back of the group of barbaric Nords piped up, "it's an old mine. We once cut directly into a cavern full of flammable gas. We destroyed the tunnels leading down to it, but some of the townsfolk believe some might have come up through little cracks."

"Hmm, good to know." Jarro mused. Then, he threw the dagger at Holfgir, and ran towards him. He grabbed the dagger out of his body and jumped off it it, propelling himself several feet behind the group. Two Nords came at him with swords, but he ducked out of the way in time and stabbed them both in the neck. Another tried with a warhammer, but Jarro made short work. He'd barely even been dismembered before Jarro was onto the next. Another three circled him, waiting for the bounty hunter to strike first. Finally, Jarro tried at one of them, but he dodged, and before he knew it, a small piece of string was around Jarro's throat.

"Finish him!" one of the Nords shouted.

The one who dodged Jarro's attack earlier started at him, but the bounty hunter ran backwards, hitting the man behind him against a wall. The Nordd slumped to the ground, and jarro stabbed the other two.

Only one Nord stood in his way now, a hulking one with an Orcish Warhammer. He brought up his hammer, but Jarro ran up one of the wooden ramparts. The Nord scowled and walked after him. Jarro was now cornered once again, and the Nord brought his weapon up for a second time. Then, in the nick of time, Jarro notcied a chain danglnig from the cavern ceiling. He jumped towards it, grabbing it with his free hand. He swung himself around and jumped back onto the rampart. But now he was behind the Nord.

"After you." Jarro said, but instead stabbed the burly man clean through the neck.

The Nord's body fell of the rampart and was impaled through an old wooden cart.

Jarro walked towards the mine entrance, until he was out in the open again. He sighed heavily, before breathing in a big gulp of fresh, Skyrim air. He found his weapons stacked against a boulder and took them, fastening the scabbards to his belt. He was about to leave when he had an idea. He grabbed a barely lit lantern from the ground, and without turning around, he chucked the lantern into the mine shaft. Then, he slowly walked back through the village, until he heard a low moan.

"I'll... kill you!" Holfgir shouted at the mine entrance, ba pool of his own blood surrounding him. He was crawling effortlessly towards Jarro.

But instead of trying to kill him again, Jarro turned back round and walked once again through the quiet village. Then, quite suddenly, an explosion of fire erupted through the entrance and out of the top of the mine. Smoke and flames roared through the air at once, reaching the huts. Slowly, one by one, the town burnt to the ground. Flames licked about the dead settlement and screams of pain and despair rung through the wind like a dark song. In one second, an entire village blew up, killing hundreds. Children were slowly roasted alive, livestock were killed and plumes of smoke came like a cloak, surrounding the dead village.

And Jarro smiled.

To Be Continued in Chapter Two


	2. Chapter 2 - A City Ablaze

Chapter Two

Jarro walked on, past the burning village, through the forest of white trees, blowing softly in the wind. Only then did it occur to the hunter that he didn't get his armor fixed. He sighed softly but dismissed it quickly, once he was in Riften he would send for Balimund, the local blacksmith.

It only took a couple more days walking before Jarro saw the small, wooden town of Riften in the distance. Jarro smiled slightly, walking up to the gate.

"Whoah there. Before I let you into Riften..." one of the two guards outside began

Jarro tossed them both a sack of coin and they immediately opened the gate. He walked in and immediately noticed the marketplace in the middle of the town, bustling with traders, most of whom were probably criminals.

"You there!" a burly Nord in steel armor roared from one of the alleyways.

"What?" Jarro answered back in a levelled tone.

"You're new here, and the Black-Briars don't like new people in their turf." the Nord said.

"Hmph. Tell them they better get used to it." Jarro said, walking on.

That's when he remembered he had no idea where the dead drop was. He wandered around for hours, checking under every rock and behind every tree, but he found nothing. So he decided to head to the inn.

Jarro had rented a room for the night and read at it's desk. He had the dead drop location letter in his hands. He tried searching for some subtle hint, but all it said was in 'the town of wood, surrounded by birch, deep inside you'll find what you search', it must have been a riddle, Jarro wasn't stupid, the others just said where, but he had no idea how to solve it.

"But what does it mean?!" Jarro smacked a fist down on table.

The innkeeper, a feisty Argonian called Keerava ran up the stairs. When she noticed no one had broke in, she scowled.

"Don't do that!"

"Sorry, it's just I need to figure out this riddle." Jarro apologized.

"Why don't you just get some barrels of mead down you. I think a lot better when I'm full of mead!" Keerava joked.

"'Barrels'?" Jarro repeated, "that's it! It's made of wood, birch wood. It's in a barrel. The dead drop's in a barrel!". At that moment he ran out of the room.

It had been nearly an hour, and all Jarro had found in barrels were kettles, cabbages and one oddly-shaped wooden stick. Finally, Jarro had come to a barrel outside of a house called Honeyside. He reached around the barrel, trying to find any symbols, when he found what felt like a diamond shape. He popped off the lid and found a huge sack, full of coin,

"Hoo-Eeh! That must be over two-and-a-half-thousand coins!" Jarro mused.

When Jarro woke up, he was still in the Inn's room, and for that he prayed. A tap on the door ensued and Keerava ran in. The bad thing though, was that Jarro was getting dressed at that time.

"Whoah!" Jarro shouted.

"Oh, well um... I apologize! I didn't realize. Julianos that's big. But, hmph. Anyway, you have a letter." Keerava said, trying to look away but seemingly transfixed by Jarro's private coinpurse.

Keerava left and Jarro opened the sealed letter.

"_Meet us at the Riften Warehouse in precisely ten minutes. If you do not, you will be killed." _it read. Jarro immediately put his armour on, fixed from Balimund that last night. He then walked out the Inn and out of the city, coming to a stop at the big, heavy wooden doors, leading to the Warehouse. He sighed, making sure all dead drops were on him, and then opened the door.

He was encircled by at least nine Nords. They all dressed in rusty, clearly poorly-maintained, iron armour. The one in the middle however wore bright green, fine clothes and had clean-cut, blonde hair. He then stepped forward and spoke,

"So... we meet again Jarro Edecar. I assume you have the Dead Drops?"

"Yes." Jarro replied, handing all six gold bags to the client.

The nobleman nodded, smiling, "You did good, Jarro. You _are_ as good a bounty hunter as they say. You did come in handy. In fact I would employ your services again, but, you know... _business is business."_

"Busi-?" Jarro started, then noticed one of the guards pull a dagger from his belt. The bounty hunter's eyes widened, and jumped back just before on of the other guards swiped him with his blade.

"Kill him! Kill him NOW!" the client shouted, taking two of his men and running out through a rear entrance.

"Damn it!" Jarro cursed, pulling out his scimitars. He swiped this way and that, but the guards were good. One of them came at with him with a hammer, and, although it didn't kill Jarro, it winded him, making him fall back. Then, another tried to stab him, but Jarro rolled out the way, pulling him down by his foot. Then he cut off the guard's head and chucked it at the others. The blood from it blinded another and he fell back, over a railing and into a pool of water below. Jarro threw his sword at a curve, bouncing off the amour of a guard and coming back to it's owner. Then the bounty hunter jumped off another guard, making him fall into the pool, and then Jarro stabbed another through the neck. When the others realized it was a futile attempt, they each took lit torched and set fire to the supporting struts, before jumping into the pool.

Jarro scowled before his lungs were filled with smoke. But he didn't have time to cough, he had to get out of there as soon as possible, the building was falling behind him. Suddenly, a massive tear sound came from above and a large section of rood landed just inches from Jarro. In a split second decision, he jumped into the pool of water as well. Several bodies floated to the surface, presumable dead from the smoke. Jarro chanced a look up, before the entire ceiling fell on him.

Jarro woke to the smell of fire and burning, and to the screams of dozens. He was buried underneath a strut which provided him a small pocket of air. He pushed it off him and held his breath, searching for an exit. He found a small grate and pulled several boards of wood from it. Suddenly, a flurry of sewage and excrement erupted from the grate, pushing Jarro back. He nearly gagged from the stench, but swam into the sewage pipe. It took what seemed like hours bur eventually jarro reached a manhole and pushed it, climbing into the city. That's when he found the source of the creasm and fire.

The city was on fire.

Jarro deduced his traitor client must have set the city's houses on fire to purge any chance of the hunter escaping. He looked around him, people were dead or being roasted alive all around him. He saw the innkeeper, Keerava trapped under a strut, helpless against it's weight.

"Help... me!" she shouted.

Jarro nodded and ran towards her, but then a wall exploded outwards and crushed her whole.

"Oh god!" Jarro shouted.

He ran towards the exit, stumbling here and there. The gate was blocked by a door, so Jarro jumped onto a barrel and jumped over the walls. Then, he found a horse and jumped onto it. He was about to sleep, when he saw his client riding away on horseback. He patted his steed and pointed to him, the horse somehow understanding, and then he went to sleep.

When he woke, his horse was galloping fast, pursuing the client. His two guards then emerged from the trees around. Jarro pulled out his scimitars and held them outwards, instantly decapitating the two. When he looked down though, Jarro noticed his scimitars were in bad condition, so he dropped them and pulled out his crossbow. He lined up his shot, his target barely in sight, and pulled back the string. Then, he took one bolt and slotted it in. He waited a few seconds and then blew out a long breath. He closed one eye... and pulled the trigger.


	3. Chapter 3 - The Plot Thickens

Dead Drop – Chapter 3

'He closed one eye... and pulled the trigger..'

The arrow flew through the air like wind. Elegant, soft in it's flight, yet deadly, seeking it's target with fatal consequences. It then came to a stop, embedded in the client's neck. The man's body slumped off the running horse, into a small pool of blue water.

Jarro stopped near the pool, and jumped off his horse. The pool had already turned from sapphire blue to crimson red. The mercenary then crouched near the corpse and rummaged through his finery, until he came across the note. Much of the letter was splattered with bloody water, but what Jarro could deduce from it was that it was addressed to the bearer, from an unmarked man simply titled 'DM'. The contents talked about hiring Jarro to obtain the dead drops and then leaving him for dead, and placing an incriminating letter on his body to frame him for the city's burning.

Jarro also took the client's gold and climbed back onto his horse. He wandered who this 'DM' was, and what importance he heralded. And why kill Jarro? He may have been a mercenary, but he had never done anything personally offensive, it didn't match up.

Something was most certainly not right.

Jarro looked back, Riften was still in flame. The mercenary took a second to remember all the victims that died. He had friends in Riften. Not very nice ones, but still friends. He wanted this mysterious leader dead. He decided to ride on, to Whiterun, if anyone knew about any of this, they would be in Whiterun.

It took all night and the following day, but eventually, Jarro made it to the heart of Skyrim... Whiterun. He walked through the gates, and immediately the smell of honeyed mead and fresh meat filled his nose. The mercenary carried on, to the main inn, The Bannered Mare. The room wa slarge, a fire was stoked in the middle, several benches set around. On the right side, a bar stood, the barkeeper, Hulga standing behind it. Jarro sat in one shadowed corner. A fine Redguard thing asked him if he wanted anything. But Jarro couldn't stop looking at the woman's... curvy body... she could sense this.

"Oh please," she began, "it's not like you haven't seen breasts before."

"Sorry, uh, nah, I'm fine, just looking for someone."

"Oh yeah? And who's that?" the Redguard asked.

"A man simply known as 'DM'. Know anyone like that?" Jarro probed.

The Redguard only shook her head, before walking to another customer. Jarro looked around. He didn't know anyone. And yet anyone of them could've been the man he was so eagerly searching for. Then, a sharp 'Psst!' sound came from the a small room on the far side of the inn. Jarro was curious, but had one hand steadied on his scimitar. He lurched towards the room. In it, was a man in noble finery sat in one chair. He asked for him to sit, and closed the door.

"You've come a long way, haven't you, Jarro?" the man said.

Jarro levelled his gaze, "How do you know my name?" he asked.

"Oh please, you burn down an entire hold capital, and you expect no one to notice?" the man joked.

"I didn't do it!" Jarro shouted.

The other man slipped a small smile, "I know you didn't, but no one else does. To the rest of Skyrim, you're as guilty as a man who just bedded the Emperor's wife and then left a message in the lavatory. I can help you, I'm the only one who can prove your innocence."

Jarro was now obsessed with this man, he needed to know who he was. "What's your name?"

"Rondius Lendexius. Imperial, and proud. And rich. Formely." the man revealed.

"'Formerly'? What do you mean?" Jarro asked.

"What I mean, Jarro, is that until recently, I had a lot of gold, more than I ever needed. I didn't even know what to do with all the gold I had. But then, very recently, someone stole all my gold, and gave it to another man. And that 'someone'... is you."


	4. Chapter 4 - The Siege Begins

Dead Drop – Chapter 4

Jarro was startled. He had been told the gold he had taken was his clients. And now this new-found stranger was saying it was all his.

"You better start explaining, NOW!" Jarro barked.

Despite the mercenary's hot-temper, the Imperial still spoke in soft words, "I wish I could, Jarro, I really do. But I don't know any more than you do. I was simply told that the gold I left myself across Tamriel was all gone, and that the person responsible was an Imperial named Jarro. Next I hear he's burned down Skyrim. It doesn't make any sense. But I see you were... unaware. Tell me what happened."

"Well, I was asked by a mystery client to obtain several dead drops and give them to him. So, I get all six, then meet him at a warehouse just outside Riften. Next thing I know, he's got his.. I mean _your _gold, and burns down the entire town. I barely escaped, but tracked down the client and killed him. He had a note on him, explaining to frame me, from a man named 'DM'. I've been searching for him since." Jarro explained.

"Interesting. So someone wanted to cripple the both of us, but why? I mean-" but Rondius was caught off, as a man, clad in full steel plate, burst in, swinging an ebony mace. Jarro jumped back, drawing his sword. He jabbed them at his opponent, who easily blocked them. The man then raised his axe. Jarro barely escaped and ran up stairs to the inn's next floor. The man followed, throwing his mace around like madman. Jarro thrust his scimitars, but he couldn't reach his opponent. Suddenly, the man pulled a dagger and slowly cornered Jarro against a wall.

"I'm gonna gut you, slimy human!" the man roared.

Then, Rondius came from behind and tightened a piece of rope around the attacker's neck, making him drop his weapon. Jarro wasted no time and plunged his blades into the man's chest, before kicking him off the balcony meters away, into the fire, which exploded outwards as the body hit it. Rondius and Jarro barely dodged the flames.

"What the bloody hell did you do that for?!" Rondius barked.

Jarro shrugged his shoulders, "What, I needed to make sure!"

"Well I think you did that!" Rondius joked, looking at Jarro. Then, both started giggling, and in only seconds they were on the floor, bursting out loud in a fit.

After a few minutes, the duo has mostly got control of themselves and walked down to the steel-plated corpse. Rondius crouched and examined the burnt body. He made an 'hmm' sound a produced a small, glass vile from somewhere inside his finery.

"What are you doing?" Jarro asked, intrigued, as the fellow Imperial put some of the attacker's blood in the vial.

"Just a moment." Lendexius put a small piece of cloth in the neck of the bottle and then crammed a cork in the top. He put the top of the cloth in the fire, until it started producing smoke. He tossed the vial across the now-empty room until it exploded on the far wall.

"Divines' sake! What was that!" Jarro jumped back in alarm.

Rondius smiled, "Just as I thought. The creature's blood is flammable, but more than that. It's very compound makes it explosive. That's why when you kicked the body into the fire, it nearly blew the entire room of the inn! This could be useful." The nobleman then filled several more vials with blood and handed half of them to Jarro.

"Wait," the mercenary said, puzzled, "you called it a creature. Whys that?"

"Well," Rondius began, "what with the explosive blood and brutish stature and appearance, it's unlike any race I've ever seen before. It shares similarities with Orcs, but the entire body is different. I think the only thing capable of making something like this would be an _extremely _powerful warlock or necromancer."

"Necromancer? But that's raising the dad, isn't it?"Jarro thought.

"Yes, but raising the dead, and mutating something aren't as different as you might think." Rondius explained.

The two then got up, and started out the inn. Jarro turned to his partner, "So whoever made that... thing.. could have only made one, yes?"

Rondius laughed, "Of course. Something like that would have taken years to make, and years more to fully control. There will only be one, and it's dead."

The two then opened the door, but instead of a grassy, sunny day, what greeted them was death and flames. The whole of Whiterun was an inferno, and dozens of creatures like the one that attacked Jarro were slaughtering innocent civilians. Jarro readied his scimitars, and Rondius unsheathed two daggers. The mercenary turned to the nobleman,

"Boy, whoever we're against... is really fucking angry with us."


	5. Chapter 5 - And the Freedom Ends

Dead Drop – Chapter 5

Jarro and Rondius charged forwards, into the marketplace. Blood coated the ground like a blanket, and every building the city was razed to the ground, up in flames like Riften was just days before. Several more of the steel-plated brutes ran towards the duo, seemingly sensing them out, despite the chaos.

"Get ready, Jarro, this will be one tough fight. We will likely perish this day. But if we do, it was an honour knowing you, friend!" Rondius shouted.

Jarro simply nodded. The two then prepared fully for the fight. Two brutes went after Rondius, and three after Jarro. The mercenary jabbed at one, who deflected it easily. The other two swung at the Imperial, who narrowly dodged them. He managed to stab one in the leg, but the attacker carried on anyway. Another brute grabbed Jarro and tried to crush his jugular, but the mercenary expected this and grasped his attacker's hand, twisting it with great force, until it snapped off. The brute shouted in anguish, releasing his hold on Jarro, who quickly turned and plunged his scimitars into the thing's neck.

"One down. Two to go." he muttered. He then kicked at one, before swiping at the other. Both ducked, before swinging maces at Jarro. One missed, but the other hit. The mercenary collapsed to the stone floor, clearly winded. One of the brutes tried finishing off Jarro with his mace, but the Imperial quickly stabbed him in the underarm and grabbing him, as a shield. The other's mace then bounced off his friend, and Jarro pushed the dead one into him, startling him. Jarro flung his legs to quickly get up, and grabbed a bow from his back, and lined an arrow along it's string. Then he remembered, and twisted one of Rondius' vials onto the arrow's notch. The remaining brute ran at him, but Jarro closed one eye and let loose the arrow. It struck the brute in the face, and exploded. The body blew into thousands of pieces, and Jarro jumped back, a hand in front of his eyes. He tehn turned to his friend.

Rondius jabbed his daggers at one of the mutated creatures, but it was a feint; and he stabbed at the other. One struck his arm, but the brute kept on, bent on dismembering the human. The Imperial nobleman threw his dagger at the unscathed one, and it lay in it's left eye. It squealed in agony, but was now only more angry. Rondius pulled a vial and emptied it's contents on both the brutes, and some on the ground, a small trail of the blood leading to a burning house. The man then stood back as the flames burned along the line and started burning the attackers, until it reached their blood; and two large explosions ensued.

"Good work." Jarro admitted.

"Thanks." Rondius said in return. The duo then ran through the collapsing debris of the city, killing brutes along the way. Finally they reached what was the entrance, but it was destroyed.

"Rondius. We have a problem. The stone has collapsed, blocking the entrance. We have no way of escape." Jarro explained to his friend.

Rondius looked about, worry clearly written on his face. However, when his eyes rested on a catapult, he smiled. "Look! A catapult used by those creatures!"

"So?" Jarro asked. When his friend merely smiled, his eyes widened. "Oh no! No! No way!" he shouted.

"Oh come on, it's perfectly safe!" Rondius shouted, then muttered under his breath, "probably."

Five minutes later, Jarro was mostly attached to the 'spoon' of the catapult, aimed at the city's walls. "I hate you." the mercenary said.

"I know, now, it may hurt, but uh-" but Rondius had already cut the rope, and the 'spoon' Jarro was in, flung up, releasing the ropes, and throwing Jarro over the walls. For a few whole seconds, the Imperial could see the city and it's surroundings. It was all in flames, remains of house and tavern were scattered across the dusty plain. Small groups of guards and citizens fought a hopeless struggle against the army of brutes. There were hundreds of them, and screams of their prey filled the air.

Then Jarro hit the ground.

And it hurt.

A lot.

It turned out that the Imperial mercenary had landed on a brute, but involuntarily stabbed at through its armour. Jarro rolled off. The pain was excruciating. Sharp pounds were up his back and down his legs. He had dropped his swords, they lay beside him. He openly screamed out, prepared for death. Then, he saw a looming figure, falling from the air...

Rondius.

Somehow, the nobleman landed swiftly on his hands and feet, and was completely unscathed. He drew his daggers and ran to Jarro. He proceeded to stab at a brute that was only feet was the fellow Imperial.

"Thanks." Jarro said. "But next time give me a blessed cushion!"

Rondius smirked, and helped Jarro up. He looked around, and still legions of the orc-like beasts came from the path south. "What do we do?" Rondius asked.

"Hmm..." Jarro was in deep thought, until he had an idea. "Hey, remember The great War? Every hold capital was given hidden escape routes in case of an impending invasion. I know because I was one of the captains who supervised the construction of them. If I'm right, one was placed directly under the... stables." Jarro started searching under where the stables once stood, looking for a small hatch.

"Uh... be quick, Jarro. We have little time!" Rondius barked, slowly backing up to where Jarro was searching.

"It's here somewhere, I _know _it is!" Jarro sped up, while several brutes closed the distance between them and the Imperial duo.

"JARRO! Be quick!" Rondius shouted, a few soldiers now only meters from them.

"And... yes! Found it!" Jarro said with glee, as he opened a small hatch firmly embedded in the ground.

"Good. Let's go!" Rondius jumped through the hole, followed shortly by Jarro. He closed the hatch just as a brute swung his mace at it. He then locked it, and lit a small torch, covered in tar.

"How far does this tunnel go?" Rondius asked, perring trhough the gloom, only able to see a few feet in front. The walls were stone, but made slimy from the moss that covered it like a thick coat. The tunnel was less than a meter wide, and the roof was not far above them. Rondius was not claustrophobic, and had been in tight spaces before. But even he found it hard to breathe or adapt to the tunnel.

"A mile or so. It should take us just outside the mountain ridge north of Whiterun. After that we can head to Dawnstar. I once packed a hidden chest full of valuable items near the iron mine there. It'll give us supplies, and from there we can decide where to go." Jarro explained.

"Good idea," Rondius agreed, "look, I didn't tell you earlier because we were... a trifle busy, but I think I know who this 'DM' is."

"Oh?" Jarro asked, intrigued.

"Well, as you may have guessed, I have met a lot of people in my travels, but I have only ever heard, not personally met of course, but heard of a man named Delvin Mallory. He's one of the important people in the Thieves Guild, in Riften. Now 'DM' may be a title, not someone's initials. But even if it isn't Mallory, he's certainly the type of person to help us. Even if he is a thief." Rondius explained.

"Riften? That just makes sense," Jarro was in deep thought, it looked like he was putting together a puzzle in his mind, "What if the client not only burned down the city to kill me, but to also kill Delvin, so this 'leader' couldn't be traced back. Plus he counted on me killing the client or him escaping, and I wouldn't see the letter. This guy's smart."

Rondius seemed happy with what Jarro had said, "Not bad. But this guy clearly wasn't smart enough. Come on, we'll be out of here soon, we'll find Delvin and we'll finish this once and for all."

After another half hour or so, they reached a stone wall, and Rondius felt another hatch in the roof. He unbolted the lock, and turned to his friend, "Here we are, friend. This is the beginning of freedom." and with that, he opened the door and both Imperials climbed out...

into the middle of an army of brutes.


	6. Chapter 6 - Screams

Dead Drop – Chapter 6

Jarro and Rondius Lendexius were carted along. They had no idea where they were going, just that wherever it was, it would likely be the last place they ever visited... alive at least. The two were cramped close together, and even with the black bags over their heads, they could feel the ehavy breathing of a brute behind them, and smell it too...

Suddenly, after what was likely an hour, but felt like a lifetime, the cart came to an abrupt halt. Several alien, guttural shouts came from somewhere in front of the cart. Then, Jarro and Rondius were made to stand up, and led by a group of brutes. They walked through what must have been a courtyard before entering somewhere warm. The two then lurched down a flight of stairs before being thrown into a prison cell. When the brute's voices left, Jarro easily slid his bound hands out of the rope, and pulled off the sack on his head. He helped his friend do the same and the duo studied their surroundings. The cell was very small, made out of stone, covered in moss. Jarro shook the door, but unfortunately, it was sturdily locked in place. The bolt on the cleaned iron was stuck in place and would not budge. Two small hay piles were in the corner of the room, and the ceiling hung very low. Jarro looked across the hall in between, and in a few of the other cells, skeletons lay in mounds. Jarro started thinking about which was better; death by one of those brutes, or death by withering away into nothingness.

"So what's your plan, then?" Rondius asked from behind. Jarro turned around, his eyes darting around the room, looking for something to use for escape. Suddenly, his eyes lit up and a grin appeared on his face. He looked around, picking up a bone and cramming it into a small hole in the wall. With great effort, he jammed it in, and in a crowbar style pushed out several bricks. Beyond was a small natural tunnel. Instantly the stench of brute waste filled the air, leaving an extremely foul taste in the back of the two's mouths.

"One moment," Rondius put a finger up, before turning around and retching his guts out. "better." he added.

The two crawled through the tunnel with great reluctance, "I'm gonna go ahead and say its a safe guess that this is the sewers." Jarro muttered, before closing his mouth as best he could. The tunnel slowly opened up on the right, revealing a brown river running by. On the left a small window stood in place. It was clear an argument was being made from the other side, and suddenly a prisoner smashed through the tainted glass. Rondius ducked quickly, lying on his back, but Jarro was too slow, and the prisoner pushed the mercenary into the brown river below. Rondius stifled back a laugh before peering over the edge. Both the prisoner and Jarro were not in sight, and the nobleman didn't know whether the two had been carried along or merely sunk.

Rondius then turned back, looking into the room the prisoner was thrown from. It was obviously a torture room, several tools and racks were hung along the walls, and bones and blood stains littered the floor. A few unlucky men, skeletal like in build, were stretched in the racks, a brute overlooking them, grinning with glee as he got to inflict pain. Then Rondius had an idea, he caught the attention of the brute, who walked over to the broken window. As soon as the orc-hybrid walked into a small pit in the middle of the chamber, Rondius then pulled a chain lever to the side of him and suddenly a bucket of molten gold poured onto the brute. The creature screeched in agony, running around like a headless horker, before falling over, the clanking of the now solid metal filled the room.

What Rondius hadn't counted for, however, was that the excess liquid gold filtered out of a small indentation that led into the river below. Rondius started panicking, and then a dawning realisation came to him. He had an idea.

An awful idea.

A truly terrible idea.

Rondius pinched his nostrils with one hands and jumped into the river, ready for whatever lied ahead. He plunged into the disgusting depths of the river, and instantly looked around I nteh murky water. But no one was in sight. Instantly, he was pulled away by some new current. He broke the surface, and saw he was passing through the tunnel at a super fast speed. Suddenly, the small natural cave opened up into a grand chamber. The river opened into a huge pool, and the smell was so horrid it turned the walls black. From the bottom of the chamber upwards, a small natural staircase winded itself up the walls. Rondius immediately jumped out of the river, rolling onto his back on the bottom of the staircase. Then, a large, black Charus fell from the top, into the stinking sea. The nobleman looked up, and standing at the top of the chamber was Jarro.

"Had a nice swim?" he joked, looking down at his exhausted friend.

Rondius simply nodded, before gasping for breath, head rolled back. Next thing he knew he was slung upon the mercenary's shoulder. Jarro walked up the stairs, before turning into another tunnel. It led up to a small hole in the surface, and as soon as they breached it, sun broke through and Rondius smiled for the first time in ages.

"Come on," Jarro said, making his friend stand up, "Let's leave and track down this son of a bitch for good."

"Hold on," Rondius said with a stern face, "I have something to do first." and with that he turned back, towards the keep they were locked in.

"Now you hold on," Jarro said with an angry look, which broke into a smile, "not without me."

The duo walked through the archway into the fort's yard. Several brutes ran to attack them. Rondius picked up a bone and swung at at one of them, who fell to the floor, dead. Jarro unsheathed a small dagger and stabbed it furiously into another's neck, and continued to do so until his face was entirely crimson. The two Imperials then turned, into another small building. Rondius swept upon two drunken brutes, knocking them down before they even knew the nobleman was there. Jarro picked up a warhammer from one of them and smashed down a crumbling wall. Behind lay a dozen or so barrels, full of gunpowder.

"I'll let you do the honours," Rondius turned to his friend, grinning manically.

Jarro made a large smile too, "Why thank you, kind sir. What a true gentleman." with that, he lit a match from underneath his armour and lit one of the fuses. Next to the barrels they found their weapons and took them, before turning around.

They were fifty metres or so away from the brute's compound, when a large explosion roared through the air. Several clouds and plumes of fire and smoke billowed from the complex. Screams of anguish pierced through the air. And the duo high-fived each other, glad at last to be free from that hell.


End file.
